Today, I strolled right into a normal bookstore on Haight Street and picked up a copy of Other Voices, Other Rooms right off the shelf. I've been looking for this in Melbourne since, oh, December, when my cousin finished VCE. Now four months have passed and it's her 18th. Capote is the goods. And where can you get him at the drop of a hat? Only in America, people.
Also, Peter Glorious Cameron has a new book out that's certain to kill me: Coral Glynn. It launched earlier this month and, despite my promising myself I wouldn't buy any more books (purely for the safety of other passengers on tomorrow's flight—don't wanna overload the plane etc.), I obviously will need to get back to City Lights tomorrow to see if they have a copy.
If I get it, I promise I won't read it on the plane, because if I do, I'll probably wind up a homicidal wreck.
Update: Started reading, and am now convinced this is the only thing that will prevent me becoming a homicidal wreck on the plane. There's no way I'm not reading this on the way home. No way.
No comments:
Post a Comment